


Survival Training

by amuk



Category: Toshokan Sensou | Library War
Genre: Community: 31_days, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 17:16:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amuk/pseuds/amuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's really survival training, for all the red tape on teammates and bonding that surrounds it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Survival Training

**Author's Note:**

> As someone else had decided to do one for the series and lamented the lack of fics, and as this prompt fit them well enough, this story was born. I still haven't gotten past book 2, so we can pretend this happens somewhere after that.
> 
> Day/Theme: February 13 // Love, joy and an AK47.

It's not so much a retreat as it is a survival guide disguised as a bonding exercise. It's in a different location this time, in wild mountains in the forgotten beyond. The area is empty and desolate and Iku can't hear the constant honking or screeching of tires anymore. There are no angry neighbours or quiet customers, just her and this vast nothing. No one comes here anymore, no one except for wildlife enthusiasts, homeless drunks, and soldiers in need of training.   
  
"Hurry up," Tedzuka shoots back, a grumpy look on his face, and she's reminded that she isn't as alone as she thought. Her team is here. Dojo is here. Nothing is amiss.  
  
Still, whoever thought about making training grounds here must have been extremely paranoid. They'll never really have to deal with situations like this.   
  
They hike for about three hours, heavy backpacks clinging to their backs like children. Tezuka is no longer a distant lead and Dojo's breaths are slightly harsher. It's raining, a slight drizzle, and her hair sticks to the back of her neck. Their steps are rhythmic, almost, sloshing and trampling on the undergrowth as the path disappears into the the green.   
  
Her gun almost feels like it's molded into her skin by now, her pots and pans extra appendages dangling as they wait for a use.  
  
Komaki finally turns around after another hour, when the grime on her skin almost seems permanent. "We're here," and the smile on his face is slightly weary.   
  
He's still faster than everyone else, though, and disappears through the ferns before she can catch up. It's only when Tezuka's head reappears that she knows where to go.  
  
"Getting lost?"  
  
"As if," she snarls. He laughs--what is so funny, she wants to growl because she was angry and tired and he had that haughty look on his face again.  
  
(And, if she thinks about it, he's been laughing more lately. And not always at her.)  
  
"With her sense of direction, it's probable," Dojo adds as he emerges from behind her. She had forgotten about his existence and flinched slightly.  
  
Luckily, he didn't notice.   
  
Unluckily, Komaki did, and by the smile on his face she can tell he's going to bring it up in the most painful way possible.   
  
"I'll search for wood, sir," she quickly announces as she sets her pack down. It's a clearing they're in, a small rock circle nearby indicating previous campers. Already Tezuka has partially set up the first tent. He's efficient, as always, each side methodically coming up at precise angles and points.  
  
"Be careful, there are wild cats lurking about," Komaki replies nonchalantly, pulling out his rations.   
  
She thinks it's going to be a long day.  She's isn't entirely wrong.  
  
The wood is wet, as expected, and no fire could be coaxed despite the kindle she found. Dinner is a cold, tough affair and only one tent was set up properly. Dojo and Komaki are further in, and she and Tezuka remain on the borders.  
  
 The wind starts to pick up and the rain pours and for a brief moment, she entertains the thoughts of drowning in this tent. Of sailing off in it, of disappearing into churning waters and of wild bears and cats fishing her out for breakfast. Then Tezuka makes that smile of his and Dojo gives her that reassuring pat and Komaki leans over her to close the flap.  
  
Somewhere along the way, somewhere in the middle of that night when the ghost stories stop and she falls asleep, curled up and surrounded by these barriers of hers, she realizes something.   
  
There was no need for this team-building exercise. They had already been a team long before that. 


End file.
